in the world is not racism, sexism, or agism.

it’s not an ism.

it’s not AIDS, getting stung by a bee, the concept of never finding a soul mate, or never having children, or dying an early and unproductive life.

the thing i hate most of all is not the idea of the Cubs never winning a World Series during my lifetime, or my dear mother marrying a cop, world hunger, or the Catholic church.

i hate poverty, rudeness, road rage, ignorance, and The Beatles a lot, but none of those things are the wost things i could imagine.

i hate terrorism, and suffering and the idea of another holicaust, slavery, and the constant fear that my unsaved soul will spend eternity in the unforgiving depths of a firey and twisted hell.

the thing i hate most of all is that theres not one elected offical with the balls to take on Ticketmaster.

i am somewhat pleased, however, that Dave Marsh wrote about It today.

the Sacramento Bee.

things i really like: the Sacramento Bee online.

No one who has paid close attention to the Kings/Lakers series is really arguing about the lousy officiating, and if you really want to get an unbiased view of how jacked the Lakers were out of a win, go no further than today’s column from J. Freedom du Lac, the Bee Pop Culture Writer.

He pretty much lays it down so fairly that you’d think he grew up in So Cal or something.

Or that maybe he’s trying to get a promotion to So Cal.

More Things I like: Getting invited to a lunch-time rendevous with a marketing gal in a nearby park.

More Things I Really like: Getting invited to a lunch/park/dealio on an unseasonably hot afternoon next to the LaBrea tar pits.

More Things I like Super Alot: good email planning

me: where in the park do you wanna meet?

her: How about by the big pit of tar?

me: ok.

her: Ok, maybe by the picnic tables in front of the museum.

More Things I really Dont Like: Her being 20 minutes late even though we made plans 15 minutes before said rendevous and I only have a 30 minute lunch break.

More Things I Like: Samaki Walker on Vlade’s absence of foul calls:

“I’m not even going to get started on that,” he said. “It’s just ticky-tack. You mean to tell me Vlade Divac guards Shaq, and he only has two fouls after three quarters?”

More Things I like Super Alot: The fact that We have Kobe and Shaq and they don’t.

More Things I like A Whole Super Alot: Women who don’t hyphenate their names even when it’d be funny as hell.

is one of my favorite reads each day.

true our furry friend doesnt always write to us via her blog everyday, but you know what that famous man once said, “great blog, crap job; great site, shit life.”

and she may try to downplay her superstar life of writing for Salon and Marie Claire and all the other famous journals under her various nom de plumes, but we know the real deal, when shes not pretending to be totally fascinated with various forms of psychotic behaviors, shes getting her extra thin cigarettes lit in the swankiest nightclubs of hollywood.

but i do have a bit of a disagreement with her today, which is rare.

Rabbit is funny as hell, in person and in pixels, but sometimes she loses the forrest for the guffaws. Yes, Ari Fleischer could look sexy in a pink bra and a catholic girl skirt and im sorry to put that image in your mind… but the purpose of dressing, ladies, is not only to impress the women of your circles who you feel compelled to constantly impress… why? Lord only knows. But it’s also to gain the attentions, ultimately, of the men who are dying to set ablaze your Camel Lights.

Therefore catholic girl skirts and a peek-a-boo sassy pink bra and boots shouldnt not be so easilly discounted and forgotten.

It’s Spring, ladies, nearly summer.

If you’ve got it, flaunt it, cuz everyone knows we wont have it forever.

Later you can put the pancake on your head and see if the fella really likes you for your mind.

Much later.

signed,

the superhero named tony

hi. my name is tony.

you dont know me but i know you.

thats the problem.

sorta like offensive linemen, if you are paying attention to the nba referees something is wrong, terribly wrong.

right now you have a difficult job to do, i realize that. you have to try to make sure that the games being played between the defending two time world champion los angeles lakers and the delightfully exciting kings from sacramento are fairly played.

but there are a lot of tough jobs.

the cops on the streets of america have to dodge bullets, the doctors in the hospitals have to cure the sick, and the technical support representatives have to solve difficult consumer questions with very little information under less than hoped-for conditions.

all you have to do is call a fair game. however your favoritism was as obvious as a white one-piece during a bikini contest. stick your little chest out all you want, but still, everyone knows something aint kosher.

now i understand that when Shaquille O’Neal is in the game you might think that you have to call a foul differently than when Danny Ferry is in the game, but let me be the first to tell you that this is not the case.

If Danny Ferry slaps a guy’s wrist, or pulls a guy’s jersey or elbows him in the gut, you should blow your little whistle.

If Danny Ferry drives to the hole and gets slapped or punched or gang-raped, thats a good time to blow your little whistle too.

Same for Shaq.

I know it’s not fair that he’s so big and strong and good-looking. But here in America everyone has equal rights and if he gets fucking mauled while crashing the boards, toot your tooter or go back to selling insurance.

Last night I was minding my own business making out with a sweet young girl from around the way. The game was on. She was trying to distract me. It was a close game but I was giving her my attention. She was a guest in my house, after all.

But then you guys decided that you wanted my attention, and I’m sorry, but I didnt turn on the tv or invite her over so that I would end up writing about you in the morning.

Basketball is exciting enough as it is.

Sacramento is a fine team with a lot of great fans, despite what Layne says.

They don’t need your help.

I know your heart is in the right place, but when you become old and gray(er) do you really want to have your grandchildren make up drinking games where they pop in a tape of this series and have to do a shot every time you miss a call, or drink a beer every time you foul Shaq out for waving his hand infront of that cute little Bibby fella?

Lord knows I don’t.

As they said in that great baseball movie of years gone by, “let them play.”

Indeed, NBA refs, let them play.

I could barely romance this young woman without thinking how unfair you were to the World Champs and I want you to know that.

And now you forced me to invite her over tonight to make up for it while watching the 51st Annual Miss Universe Pageant.

And you know what’s really sad?

Those judges will probably select the correct winner.